


If the Choice Were Mine to Make

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Era, First Time, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Omega!Enjolras, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is an Omega who has enjoyed relative freedom until his father decides to arrange a marriage. Now, he has but one choice: forge a bond with a different Alpha as soon as possible. Luckily, there is one Alpha available for the task.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If the Choice Were Mine to Make

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is about as far out of my wheelhouse as one can get. I enjoy A/B/O fics and wanted to try my hand at it, assuming I'd write something short and call it a day. Well, I didn't quite succeed on the short front...
> 
> My first time writing a fic like this, so concrit is always appreciated! 
> 
> Title is from Billy Joel's "And So It Goes".
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful [Boots](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pwnmercys/pseuds/Boots), so for once, I can say that any mistakes are not my fault! (I jest, of course; they're all still my fault). Same disclaimer as always: if you recognize it, I don't own it.

Enjolras was unusual for an Omega in many ways, and he knew this. Far luckier, too, than most Omegas, and he knew that as well.

In a society in which Omegas were the bottom rung, viewed as nothing more than breeding stock, and legally, nothing more than property, he had his parents’ wealth and status to draw on, which had at the least elevated him somewhat. He was pampered and spoiled and well-fed and well-dressed, all in the hopes of attracting the perfect Alpha.

He had no rights, which was one thing he was absolutely fighting to change, using what free time he had — what free time he had fought tooth and nail to get from his father — in the fight for equality for Omegas, and also for Betas who, though not treated nearly as poorly as Omegas, nonetheless remained second-class citizens to Alphas.  He was lucky enough to have found friends among all social strata willing to help in the cause.

But nature, of course, was against him, not only in having formed him the way it did, with his delicate, almost feminine features (classic signs of an Omega, though he was at least taller and stronger than most), but also in the nature of the bond.

For most Alphas and Omegas, the bond was developed after mating — he hated the word, but it had never seemed more apt than in this case — during the Omega’s heat, though it sometimes took several heats with the same Alpha to be finalized. But in some cases, an Alpha and Omega were instantly drawn to each other, and their bond developed without mating, though it took mating for it be considered fully formed. This rare phenomenon was known as ‘bond-compatibility,’ and while lauded by some Alphas as the epitome of their natural right over Omegas, Enjolras dreaded the thought that such a thing could ever happen to him.

Of course, whether developed over time or through meeting a bond-compatible Alpha, the result for Enjolras, for any Omega, would be the same: a change in his nature to be entirely subservient to his Alpha, a desire to bear him children, to be the best Omega possible for him.

It made Enjolras’s skin crawl just to think of it.

And so he had spurned the attention any had ever given him, any man (or woman, though women were always Betas) had ever spared for him, for fear of being taken by something that nature, but not he, had intended. And he had dedicated every available hour in the hopes that he might free those without his privileges from the oppression of both nature and society.

But now he found all his plans, his desires, his dreams foiled, and he sat across from Combeferre and Courfeyrac, who stared at him with increasing concern as he tried to tell them what had happened. “My father has arranged for a marriage for me,” Enjolras said finally, tonelessly.

The reaction was instant; Courfeyrac, an Alpha, knew what this meant for Enjolras, and looked stricken. Combeferre, a Beta, mostly looked aghast, but guarded as well. “Can he do that?” he asked, looking from Enjolras to Courfeyrac, who knew the law better than he did.

Courfeyrac sighed and shrugged. “Legally, as an Omega, Enjolras must always belong to an Alpha. Without having one of his own, Enjolras is the property of the closest familial Alpha: in this case, his father.”

"Meaning my father can sell me to whomever he wants," Enjolras finished, his voice hollow.

Combeferre looked completely horrified now. “But surely you can do something about it? Surely you could—”

Enjolras slammed his fist down on the table and shook his head, tears pricking in his eyes. “There is nothing to be done,” he snapped, his frustration over the whole situation causing him to lash out at his closest friends. “All our efforts have been in vain. Omegas have gained  _nothing_ , and soon I will be sold into a marriage where I will be unable to continue fighting for those who need it most.”

For a long moment after Enjolras’s outburst, silence reigned over the table. Then Combeferre cleared his throat as he reached out to touch Enjolras’s hand gently. “My friend,” he said, his voice soft, “do not think that the cause will die, even without you at its helm. We will continue to fight for the day you can rejoin us.”

Bowing his head, Enjolras nodded slowly. “Of course. I forget myself. I know that you would not give up on this.”

“That we would not give up on  _you_ ,” Courfeyrac corrected, though his gaze was distant, as if he was thinking something over. “Besides, I would not so quickly abandon hope. There may, in fact, be something that we  _can_  do.”

Combeferre stared at him. “If you have a plan, speak now.”

Courfeyrac smiled slightly. “Well, possession is nine-tenths of the law, is it not?”

Frowning, Enjolras leaned forward to ask, “And what would you have me do? Hide away so that I am not in the possession of my father? Or would you have me belong to someone else?” Courfeyrac’s smile widened, and Enjolras shrank back. “You would have me belong to another? How in the world would that help me?”

Combeferre frowned as well. “I must agree with Enjolras. I don’t see how this plan would achieve anything.”

"No, listen," Courfeyrac said, earnest. "If Enjolras were to belong to another Alpha, one whose claim superceded his father’s, his father would have no authority to arrange a marriage."

Enjolras frowned, his eyes dark. “But the only way to ensure a claim like that would be…”

"Through a bond." Courfeyrac’s voice was heavy, and he nodded at the unspoken words from Enjolras. “I know that it is not ideal, and not what any of us would want, but if you were bonded to an Alpha, a friend, one who was loyal or at least sympathetic to our cause, surely that would be better than the alternative of being sold to the highest bidder by your father.”

As much as it pained him to agree, Enjolras nevertheless nodded slightly at Courfeyrac’s logic. Combeferre, however, did not look convinced. “Could you not simply get an Alpha to pretend to be your bondmate?” Combeferre asked Enjolras. “Surely that would be an even better alternative.”

It was Courfeyrac who answered, shaking his head almost sadly as he said, “No. The scent would give it away. As a Beta, you wouldn’t know, but…  an unbonded Omega smells far differently from a bonded Omega, so as to deter Alphas from pursuing bonded Omegas.” He shook his head again. “There is no way to fake that. A true bond is the only way.”

Combeferre shook his head. “Then if the only way is a true bond, and the preferable choice for Alpha is one of our own company, the answer is clear.” He hesitated for only a moment before resting his hand lightly on top of Courfeyrac’s. “You should try to form the bond with Enjolras.”

Courfeyrac looked from Enjolras to Combeferre, stricken, and Enjolras shook his head quickly. “I would not ask that of you, Courfeyrac. Not when—”

Though Enjolras trailed off, his meaning was clear as he glanced at Combeferre, who had eyes only for Courfeyrac, and when Courfeyrac just shook his head slowly, looking at Combeferre plaintively, Combeferre said softly, his voice pitched low, “We are not bonded, you and I, nor can we ever be. You are Alpha, and I, I am just a Beta. I have no rights to you, and I know that if you were ever to be bonded, I would give everything up. I’ve accepted that.” He paused, and took a deep, steadying breath. “For the sake of us all, for the sake especially of Enjolras, do this for him. I will not mind. And if the bond forms, then all the better for you both.”

Courfeyrac turned his back on Enjolras, who looked away, face burning to be privy to this conversation. “But I will mind,” Courfeyrac said, reaching out to cup Combeferre’s cheek, to rub his thumb over the smooth skin. “I will mind because you are my dearest love, Beta or not, bonded or not. You would give everything up by law if I were to become bonded, but I would give everything up by choice to keep you here, with me.”

Enjolras cleared his throat. “Combeferre,” he said, carefully, “I will not ask this of you. Or of you, Courfeyrac. There  _must_  be another option, one far more amenable to everyone involved.”

Though Combeferre nodded slowly, his eyes didn’t leave Courfeyrac’s, and they stayed like for a long moment until Combeferre bowed his head in acquiescence. “Joly is unavailable, of course, with his bond in place. What of Feuilly? You admire him, do you not? And he is as good a friend as any for the task.”

Shaking his head, Courfeyrac told Combeferre quietly, “Feuilly has Bahorel.”

“They’re bonded?” Combeferre asked, surprised, for neither had ever mentioned such, had ever mentioned even pursuing each other romantically.

It was Enjolras’s turn to shake his head, looking troubled. “No, I do not believe so, though Courfeyrac would recognize the change in scent, not me. But I believe that they are working towards legalizing their union, and Bahorel’s parents have consented to signing over his ownership to Feuilly.  Their bond is only a matter of time, and I would not get in the way of that.” His expression fell. “Is there no other option? No one else you can think of?”

Courfeyrac shrugged, looking uneasy. “I can check with some of my Alpha friends from law school,” he offered, tentatively, but Combeferre shook his head firmly.

“Of course there’s another option,” he said, “and I can’t believe we did not think of it before. Grantaire.”

Enjolras snorted and shook his head, but Courfeyrac leaned back in his chair, his expression contemplative. “That could work,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. “Grantaire is certainly…  _committed_ , to say the least, if not to the cause than at the very least to you. And to all of our friends.”

Rolling his eyes, Enjolras sat forward, his expression doubtful as he narrowed his eyes slightly at Courfeyrac. “Surely you cannot be serious. You would trust Grantaire with something as important as this?”

Combeferre’s lips quirked in the hint of a smile. “In truth, there is no one that I trust more. Especially with something as important as this.” He shrugged. “You can always say no; it is your future after all. But Grantaire would be easily your best option, and were things not to work out, he would remain one of your most steadfast supporters.”

Though Enjolras still looked skeptical, he could not help but agree that of everyone, Grantaire would probably continue to be supportive even if things did not pan out, even if the bond did not form between them. His inexplicable devotion to Les Amis despite his vocal skepticism towards the cause undoubtedly counted in his favor. And Grantaire… well, Enjolras could not deny that the prospect was not entirely stomach-turning.

When they had first met, years ago now, Enjolras remembered Grantaire as being the first Alpha that he had ever been keenly aware  _was_  an Alpha, with something inexplicable in those blue eyes and dark curls that had drawn Enjolras to him. And Grantaire had never expressed anything less than an almost worshipful devotion in return, to the point that Marius, a clueless Beta if ever there was one, once asked Courfeyrac if Enjolras was Grantaire’s Alpha.

So certainly there was attraction there, though Enjolras did not know if that was enough to form a bond. In truth, he was remarkably unversed in such things, in affairs of the nature he had been denying for as long as he could. Some of those who had found bonds spoke of  _love_ , as if it wasn’t just nature that twisted their emotions, and Enjolras couldn’t be sure, but he assumed that he had never felt love and probably never would outside of the bond.

Still, no other option existed, so Enjolras closed his eyes for a brief moment and inclined his head. “Very well,” he said, his voice sounding to his own ears as if coming from far away. “Courfeyrac, if you will, go see Grantaire, explain the situation to him, Alpha to Alpha. Ensure that he is willing to make this sacrifice for me, for us all. If he is, instruct him to come to my suite this evening, if possible.”

Courfeyrac nodded and stood, pausing only to press a brief but firm kiss to Combeferre’s temple before sweeping out of the room. Combeferre looked at Enjolras curiously. “What are you going to do in the interim?”

Enjolras stood as well, looking a little pale. “I must see Joly,” he said, his voice quiet. “There are… supplies that I shall need. Not to mention a discussion of… the mechanics.” He blushed scarlet at the thought and stared determinedly down at the table.

Combeferre reached out to grip his shoulder bracingly. “I know that, given another choice, you would gladly take it, but I do trust Grantaire in this. He will be gentle, and, well…” If possible, Combeferre blushed darker than Enjolras. “Do not deny yourself the pleasure that you will receive, my friend. There is no shame in giving in to nature on this.”

Though Enjolras nodded, his shoulders stiffened at the thought, and as he left, he thought bitterly that whatever pleasure he found would only bring with it the shame of having given in to what he had always wished to deny.

* * *

 

Enjolras sat stiffly on the settee in his suite of rooms, awaiting Grantaire’s arrival. He had been to visit Joly, who had been particularly sympathetic, understandably, and had given him the necessary herbs to trigger his heat and offset the herbal suppressants Enjolras had been taking since he had come of age at eighteen.

The herbs had not yet taken effect, and likely would not until an hour hence, giving him plenty of time to discuss what was to happen with Grantaire, a discussion that Enjolras was very much not looking forward to, despite what he assumed would be Grantaire’s best intentions. His hands curled compulsively, fingers digging into his thighs at the thought of what was to come.

Nothing could have forced him up and off the settee short of the knock on the door, heralding Grantaire’s arrival. He wiped his sweaty palms against his trousers before moving swiftly to the door. Taking a deep breath, Enjolras opened to the door to find Grantaire standing there, hands clasped behind his back, looking at Enjolras almost nervously. “Enjolras,” Grantaire said, straightening. “I… I hope you are well.”

The words made Grantaire wince slightly, but Enjolras found himself relaxing at the absurdity of the situation. “I am as well as can be expected, I suppose,” he said, stepping back from the door to allow Grantaire inside. “Please, come in.”

Grantaire stepped inside and waited for Enjolras to latch the door behind them before following him into the sitting room and sitting beside him on the settee. He looked down for a long moment before asking, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Enjolras laughed hollowly. “No preamble, then? Straight to the matter at hand?” He sighed and looked down, shaking his head. “If I saw another option, I would take it, but as I do not, I must make due with what options I have. So yes, I am sure I want to do this.” He raised his eyes to look at Grantaire quizzically. “Are you sure you want to? There is no shame in saying no in this matter.”

It was Grantaire’s turn to laugh, though there was something deeper and almost bitter contained in the sound. “I will not back out of this arrangement, as I have nothing to lose here and everything to gain.” Before Enjolras could question what Grantaire meant by that, Grantaire cleared his throat, tone turning brisk. “You visited Joly to get what you needed?”

Enjolras could not help but blush slightly at the question. “Yes. I took the herbs earlier this evening, and they should take effect soon.”

Nodding, Grantaire looked at him closely. “You have been on suppressants?” Enjolras nodded. “Good. Then your heat will not last long.”

Enjolras cocked his head. “It won’t?” he asked, hating how naïve the question made him sound.

Shaking his head, Grantaire told him, “Your body will need time to divest itself of all the suppressants in your system. What Joly gave you is enough to trigger a heat, but your body will realize that it cannot viably carry offspring and end it early.” He smiled tightly at Enjolras. “There will be no concerns about conception.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Enjolras demanded, before realizing — “You were sired from a bond, weren’t you?”

Grantaire inclined his head. “It is not as rare as society might think, though certainly among our group of friends, the numbers skew towards an abnormal amount of Alphas and Omegas when compared to the general population. My own father instructed my Da to educate me on how best to win an Omega.” His face twisted slightly. “I do not think he thought I had much chance on my own.”

“I never knew my other father,” Enjolras said quietly. “His second pregnancy… it did not go well. He died in childbirth, and my brother with him. And my father was left with me, a squalling brat of an Omega, worth only what marriage I could find for myself.”

Unexpectedly, Grantaire reached out to touch Enjolras’s cheek, and Enjolras found himself leaning into the touch as Grantaire murmured, “No, you are worth so much more than that, Enjolras. You are a beautiful, strong man who just happens to be an Omega.” His fingers slipped down to stroke along Enjolras’s jaw, resting lightly on his lips, and Grantaire whispered, “You are so much more than your nature.”

Before Enjolras could respond, could say anything, Grantaire had leaned in to kiss him, a light, gentle kiss that left Enjolras’s head reeling. He instinctively returned the kiss, but then, realizing what he was doing, jerked away, his eyes wide. “It’s all right,” Grantaire said, soothingly, the way one might calm a horse. “Relax, Enjolras.”

“How can I relax?” Enjolras asked, his voice hoarse, though the words from Grantaire did cause him to relax slightly, and he let Grantaire draw him forward again. “How can I relax knowing what is at stake, and what we must do?”

Grantaire shrugged, running his hand down Enjolras’s arm. “Either the bond will happen or it won’t, but fretting about it will not help in either case.” He squeezed Enjolras’s arm gently and told him, “Relax. Try to enjoy this, even if just for the moment.”

Grantaire’s words echoed Combeferre’s previously, and Enjolras nodded, stiffly, and then tried to relax. He licked his lips nervously before leaning forward to kiss Grantaire. The kiss was not nearly as good as the one Grantaire had given him, too much pent up in it to truly be spectacular, but Grantaire smiled against his lips anyway before kissing him back, one hand resting against Enjolras’s jaw while the other one cupped the back of his head possessively. Enjolras opened his mouth against Grantaire’s, trying to keep up with everything the dark-haired man did, and then Grantaire tugged lightly on one of Enjolras’s golden curls.

And in that moment, the herbs from Joly took effect.

The reaction was instantaneous; Enjolras’s eyes darkened as his pupils dilated until only the barest sliver of blue was visible, and he squirmed uncomfortably from the dual sensations of his trousers straining in the front as his cock grew harder, and becoming sodden in the back as his hole became slick. He arched against Grantaire with a gasp, his breath quickening until it was coming in pants, and Grantaire wrapped a steadying arm around his waist, his large hand splayed against Enjolras’s lower back. “Grantaire—” Enjolras whined, desperately needing as much as Grantaire could give him.

“Steady now,” Grantaire said, his voice still calm despite the waves of scent rolling off of Enjolras. Only the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed convulsively betrayed his own discomfort. “Let’s get you into your bedchamber.”

He stood, pulling Enjolras up with him, but Enjolras felt as if his legs were made of jelly, and Grantaire practically had to carry him through to the bedchamber. As they went, Enjolras caught hints of what Grantaire was saying — “perfectly normal,” “intense your first time,” “I’ll take care of you” — but was so desperately trying to rut against Grantaire that he barely even noticed. Finally, they were in his bedchamber, and Grantaire set him down on the bed, dropping to crouch next to him, his hand hovering at the waistband of Enjolras’s trousers. “Enjolras,” he said, his voice firm and commanding, and Enjolras looked up, enraptured as much by the tone as anything else, “this is your last chance to back out of this.”

Enjolras simply whined again and tried to cant his hips into Grantaire’s hand in desperate search of friction. Grantaire chuckled darkly and quickly tugged Enjolras’s trousers down to free his hardened cock. Then, without warning, without any hesitation, he took Enjolras’s cock into his mouth, swallowing half of it down as if this was something he did every day. Enjolras made a noise in the back of his throat that was more animalistic than anything, and his hands scrabbled wildly for purchase in Grantaire’s curls. Grantaire bobbed his head once before pulling back and telling Enjolras hoarsely, “I apologize for the lack of warning, but it will be better if you have reached release at least once. It will be just the work of the moment—”

And he bent again to his task, taking Enjolras’s cock into his mouth once more, his tongue swirling around the head and then sliding along the vein on the underside of Enjolras’s cock as he took in more of him. Enjolras’s back arched and his hips jerked in aborted movements against the wet, slick heat, useless against Grantaire’s firm grip, which kept him from bucking forward at the sensation.

Despite Grantaire’s insistence that it would not take long, it felt like hours passed as Grantaire slowly, languidly lowered his mouth down the entire length of Enjolras’s cock, and when his cheeks hollowed, Enjolras moaned loudly. “Grantaire,” he whimpered in warning, perhaps belatedly, feeling the coiling in his belly, but Grantaire made no attempt to pull away, and so Enjolras spent in Grantaire’s mouth.

Grantaire dutifully swallowed and stood, and Enjolras looked down in despair at his own cock, which remained hard, though not painfully so, as it had been before. Grantaire kissed Enjolras’s cheek and whispered, “It is a temporary reprieve, but I hope it will be enough to alleviate your discomfort in what we are about to do…”

Though Enjolras nodded, his head seemed heavy, and he barely noticed as Grantaire swiftly divested first himself then Enjolras of all clothing. Then Grantaire had pushed him back against the bed, his lips on Enjolras’s throat, one hand back on Enjolras’s hip, and the other…

Enjolras gasped as he felt Grantaire’s other hand brush against his hole, pushing a finger past the ring of muscle. The sensation was at once foreign and intimately familiar, and all heaviness fell away as his muscles clenched. “Are you alright?” Grantaire asked, his hand frozen in place, one finger up to the knuckle inside Enjolras. “I did not hurt you, did I?”

Enjolras managed to shake his head as he pulled Grantaire down to kiss him, whispering, “No,  _no_ , more, please.”

Grantaire obeyed, a second finger slipping in to join the first, and Enjolras arched into the touch, into the feeling of the fingers moving and crooking inside of him. Though he had originally assumed his own lubrication would be sufficient to prepare him, he did not care to question it, overwhelmed by the exquisite sensation of being opened up so intimately. Two fingers soon became three, and Enjolras threw his head back against the pillow. Grantaire took the opportunity to bite down possessively on Enjolras’s bared throat as Enjolras keened, “Please, Grantaire,  _please_ , I’m ready, please!”

“Listen to you beg,” Grantaire growled, his fingers still moving inside Enjolras as his lips swept up to nip at his earlobe. “Listen to you plead and whimper for it.” Enjolras shuddered, but he couldn’t stop the wordless whine that came from his mouth, and Grantaire’s fingers stilled. Moaning at the sudden pause in motion, Enjolras bucked his hips forward, trying in vain to force Grantaire’s fingers deeper into himself. Grantaire chuckled slightly, but his chuckle was strained. “Eager, aren’t we?”

Recognizing the strain in Grantaire’s voice, Enjolras realized for the first time how aroused Grantaire was, his pupils dilated, the muscles in his back and arms tense, his cock flushed and leaking; at the same time, in the dim part of his brain not currently urging him to rut against Grantaire for whatever release he could find, he realized just how much effort it was costing Grantaire to hold himself back. Well,  _that_  at least was something Enjolras could do something about. He wrapped his arms around Grantaire’s neck and pulled him down to kiss him, telling him in a rough, strained voice, “ _Don’t hold back._ ”

Grantaire did not need further convincing, and with another growl, he pulled his fingers out of Enjolras, leaving him empty and aching. A whine escaped Enjolras’s lips, but then Grantaire turned him over roughly, his fingers digging into Enjolras’s hips, and after only a moment’s hesitation, pushed into him.

The reaction was instantaneous, Enjolras letting out a rough noise as Grantaire steadied himself, fingers still gripping Enjolras’s hips hard enough to bruise. “Are you all right?” Grantaire asked, his breathing harsh, and in lieu of answering, Enjolras bucked his hips forward and back, sliding slowly along Grantaire’s cock. That motion was all it took for Grantaire to let go of the last vestiges of restraint he possessed, pulling almost all the way out of Enjolras to slam back in.

Enjolras panted and groaned, gripping the bedsheets in his fists in the struggle to stay upright as Grantaire set a brutal pace, snapping his hips forward to thrust into Enjolras with abandon. Grantaire reached forward to wrap a hand around Enjolras’s neck, not choking him, but holding him possessively in a way that showed he could choke Enjolras if he wanted, could do with Enjolras as he pleased, pounding into him over and over; and Enjolras should have found that disturbing, should have protested at the mere suggestion, but instead moaned at the very thought.

It took an embarrassingly short time for Enjolras to spend again, untouched, his semen coating his stomach and the bed beneath him. Grantaire could feel Enjolras clenching around him, but he did not stop, though he did slow to adjust to the feeling. His own cock was achingly hard, but his knot had not yet swelled, so he continued his slow thrusts through Enjolras’s orgasm before picking up his pace again.

One arm wrapped around Enjolras’s stomach, holding him close, while Grantaire’s other hand moved lower to pump roughly up and down Enjolras’s cock in time with his thrusts, and Enjolras felt as if he might collapse at the intensity of it all, his already-sensitive cock twitching in Grantaire’s grasp, still hard despite having orgasmed twice already. His head fell backward and his eyelids lowered, and Grantaire bit down again on Enjolras’s exposed neck hard enough to mark him.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras gasped, feeling the base of Grantaire’s cock beginning to swell against his entrance. For the next few thrusts, Grantaire’s cock still managed to slip in and out, but then his knot grew too full, anchoring him inside Enjolras. Still, his hips stuttered with shallow thrusts that caused the knot to tug at Enjolras’s entrance, making Enjolras’s back arch as he moaned brokenly, tears welling in his eyes and coursing freely down his face as he came a third time, crying out as he did, “Grantaire!”

This was enough to finally push Grantaire over the edge, and he buried himself in Enjolras to the hilt as he spent, gasping “Enjolras” against Enjolras’s back.

Enjolras slowly came back to himself, still half-hard from the feeling of Grantaire’s knot swollen inside of him, and Grantaire settled back into a more comfortable position. Enjolras gasped as the knot shifted within him, and Grantaire gripped his hip to steady him. “Sorry,” he said, breathlessly, and he bent forward to press a kiss to Enjolras’s shoulder. “You were perfect. Thank you.”

If Enjolras could have laughed, he would have; as it was, he was still too tense and too much in the grip of his heat to manage much more than a weak chuckle. “You’re welcome.” His voice was hoarse, wrecked, and he was beginning to come down from the high of their coupling, though his heat had not yet concluded. “How much longer…”

Enjolras wasn’t able to complete the thought because Grantaire shifted again, causing him to bite off his words with a low groan, and Grantaire peppered his back with kisses before responding, “Not long, I hope. Half an hour at most, and your heat should conclude shortly thereafter.”

Nodding, Enjolras asked, “When will we—”

Again, he did not conclude his sentence, but this time not because he was unable; he just realized that he didn’t necessarily want to know the answer. Grantaire stroked his skin with gentle fingers, and when he answered, it was in an unfamiliar tone. “I do not know. I assume once everything is over?”

Enjolras nodded again, and they spent the next half hour in relative silence. Enjolras came once more, Grantaire wringing a fourth orgasm out of him with gentle, sure strokes, his thumb swiping over the tip of Enjolras’s cock as his other hand gripped Enjolras’s hip with a force matched only by Grantaire’s teeth as he marked the other side of Enjolras’s neck, murmuring encouraging words against the taut skin as Enjolras cried out with his release.

Finally, Grantaire’s cock softened enough that he could pull out, and he collapsed next to Enjolras, pulling the smaller man to his chest, his arm a warm, comforting weight against Enjolras’s shoulders. Enjolras could feel his heat leaving him, fading into memory, his body and nature slowly releasing his mind from its hazy daze… and his fingers tightened against Grantaire.

He didn’t feel anything different.

Certainly, he felt differently towards Grantaire, as was only to be expected. No other had ever seen so much of Enjolras, seen him in such a state, and judging by the way Grantaire was looking at him through hooded eyes, a small smile on his lips, his hand playing with Enjolras’s curls, Grantaire felt much the same towards Enjolras. And yes, Enjolras had to admit that this felt  _nice_ , felt  _right_  even, lying here in Grantaire’s arms, sated and complete in a way he had never felt before, but it didn’t feel the way he had been promised a bond would feel. He didn’t suddenly want to bear Grantaire children or spend his life serving him. He didn’t want to give everything up in the single-minded pursuit of a life with Grantaire.

He didn’t feel like he had suddenly, irrevocably fallen in love with him.

“It didn’t work,” he said, his voice low, despair creeping into it as he pushed himself away from Grantaire, who looked stricken. “It  _didn’t_  work, and now I have no options remaining.”

Grantaire reached out to grab Enjolras’s wrist, his fingers warm against Enjolras’s skin, saying urgently, “Enjolras, wait—” but Enjolras had already stood, pulling his arm out of Grantaire’s grip before bending to pick up his clothing, holding it against his chest as he avoided Grantaire’s eyes.

“You should go.”

The words hung heavily in the air, and Grantaire recoiled as if he had been slapped, his eyes dark. Without saying a word, he rolled off the bed, grabbed his clothes, and quickly dressed, pausing only to touch Enjolras’s arm once more on the way out. When Grantaire had gone, Enjolras collapsed on the bed, allowing himself a rare moment of despair. It hadn’t worked, and he was more alone now than ever.

He tried not to think about the way his arm still felt warm where Grantaire had touched him.

* * *

 

It was with a slightly shaking hand that he knocked on Courfeyrac’s door later that day, after taking several showers in an attempt to clear Grantaire’s scent and the scent of his heat from his body. He hoped — though he had promised himself he would not allow this — that he could convince Courfeyrac to reconsider, to mate with him after all, despite Combeferre. Courfeyrac opened the door, looking confused and slightly apprehensive at seeing Enjolras there, and his nostrils flared slightly before he relaxed. “Ah. Do come in.”

Enjolras stepped inside, his shoulders tense, and he said quickly, before Courfeyrac could speak, “The bond did not work. And despite my best intentions, I have come here to ask — nay, to  _beg_ , that—”

“Enjolras, my friend,” Courfeyrac said, cutting him off, resting a gentle hand on Enjolras’s arm. “What is it you speak of? I was just about to congratulate you on your bond. Why do you say it did not work?”

Staring at Courfeyrac, Enjolras shook his head slowly, as confused as Courfeyrac appeared to be. “But it  _didn’t_  work,” he insisted, feeling a bit like a petulant child. “Grantaire and I — we mated, and I will not say that I did not enjoy it, but afterward, there were no feelings to indicate a bond, no desire for anything more than he had already given me.”

Courfeyrac shrugged. “I do not know what to tell you,” he said, frowning slightly. “Certainly this is not anything that I have heard of, but as I am unbonded myself, it is possible that we have been misled by the stories. Perhaps this is what a bond feels like?”

“But it’s doesn’t feel like  _anything_ ,” Enjolras snapped, his hands clenching into fists at his side.

Again, Courfeyrac shrugged, though the concerned look on his face slipped into something more gentle. “Regardless of what it feels like, I can tell you beyond any kind of doubt that you are bonded. The scent you are giving off right now… My god, Enjolras, I have never smelled a bonded Omega with as repellant a scent. No offense meant,” he added hastily, seeing the look on Enjolras’s face. “But nature has intended you to be bonded, and if the feeling is not there, perhaps it is something to discuss with Grantaire? Perhaps as your Alpha, he will know more.”

 _Your Alpha._  Enjolras heard the words and swayed, reaching out to brace himself against the wall, because the words sounded at once completely right and entirely wrong. They  _couldn’t_  have bonded — Enjolras did not feel any differently towards Grantaire.

Did he?

“I’m going to Grantaire’s,” he heard himself say, as if from a long distance away, and stumbled out of Courfeyrac’s, still in a daze over what he had discovered.

They — he and Grantaire — were bonded. Or they weren’t. It was impossible to say. Courfeyrac had said one thing, but Enjolras’s head said another, stubbornly insisted that he felt no differently about Grantaire than he had yesterday.

Thinking of Grantaire evoked the same images as before — Grantaire laughing and joking, with his crooked teeth and too-large nose, his smirk smug as he taunted Enjolras; Grantaire drinking, his lips red as they pursed around the mouth of the bottle; Grantaire’s eyes flashing with unspoken laughter and wit as he and Enjolras sparred.

How many evenings had they spent together, whiling the hours away in the Musain, long after everyone else had returned home? How many times had Grantaire proven, over and over again, how smart and funny and witty he was, able not only to keep pace with Enjolras but perhaps also to beat him, the only one besides Combeferre who could claim such a thing?

How many times had Grantaire walked him home on those evenings, their arms barely brushing as they walked along, still arguing, still testing each other? How many times had they met for lunch or dinner just to discuss more with each other? Grantaire was his biggest supporter, his biggest champion, even if he was always testing Enjolras, and Enjolras had perhaps never fully appreciated how much Grantaire had worked to make him better. He had never fully appreciated many things about Grantaire, the least of which being…

The least of which being how he felt about Grantaire.

He had tried to fight it, to deny it, to hide it, but he had felt something for Grantaire from the beginning, from their first meeting, and the more he looked back on it, the more he realized — perhaps the reason why he felt no different was because he had always felt this way. A part of him had known, had  _always_  known, that they were going to bond, because they were already bonded, had already been bonded in all the ways that mattered. And now nature had just confirmed that.

They were the perfect inverses of each other, and nothing would ever be easy between them because nothing ever had been, but it  _would_  be perfect. It always had been perfect.

With this realization, Enjolras squared his shoulders, standing up tall, a fierce smile breaking out across his face. He had to get to Grantaire’s.

* * *

 

Enjolras was practically shaking with excitement as he stood outside Grantaire’s, waiting for him to answer the door. Now that he finally understood, finally realized, he wanted to see if Grantaire knew as well.

Once Grantaire opened the door, Enjolras inhaled sharply. There were so many little things he had never noticed about Grantaire but somehow saw clearly now, as if the world had become blurred and Grantaire thrown into sharp relief. “Grantaire,” he breathed, stepping forward to all but collapse against Grantaire, breathing his scent in deeply.

For a moment, Grantaire held him there, then gently pushed him away, though his hands lingered against Enjolras’s hips. “Why are you here?” Grantaire asked, as if confused.

“Why am I here?” Enjolras repeated, incredulous. “Is that the sort of question an Alpha typically asks his bondmate?”

Grantaire froze for a moment, something indecisive flickering across his expression before it settled on carefully neutral. “So you know.”

Enjolras cocked his head slightly, his initial excitement at seeing Grantaire fading, dampened by the complete lack of enthusiasm on Grantaire’s part. “As, assumedly, do you,” he said, his voice cool. “Tell me, did you know before or after Courfeyrac asked you to assist me that we were bond-compatible?”

A small smile lifted the corners of Grantaire’s mouth. “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that we were bond-compatible.” At the look of shock on Enjolras’s face, Grantaire sighed, looking suddenly exhausted, and he took Enjolras’s arm and steered him into his living room, sitting him down on the méridienne. He hesitated for a moment, as if deciding whether to sit beside Enjolras or not, and instead settled into the armchair next to Enjolras. “I will take it from your reaction that you did not realize we were bond-compatible.”

“Not until Courfeyrac told me that we had bonded,” Enjolras said honestly — duplicity was behind both of them now. “Which begs the question of why you would not tell me, why you would allow me to throw you out as if…”

He didn’t complete the statement —  _couldn’t_  complete the statement — but Grantaire inclined his head in understanding. “I did not tell you then for the same reason I did not tell you when first we met. It was not my place to do so.”

Enjolras stared at him, trying to wrap his mind around what Grantaire had just told him. “But one could argue that you were the only one with place to do so. It was your right as an Alpha—”

“My  _right_  as an Alpha?” Grantaire repeated, a dangerous growl in his voice. “To hear those words coming from you makes my skin crawl. What rights could I possibly have in this instance? What rights could I ever have to you?”

Enjolras blushed and looked away. “I do not…I mean only to say that you are given certain rights and privileges by society as an Alpha, and the right to act on bond-compatibility is a right that supercedes all others. And you…” He paused, trying to find the words for what he wanted to say, but instead finished weakly, “You are an Alpha.”

“I  _am_  an Alpha,” Grantaire said, the slight growl still in his voice. He sighed and shook his head. “But it was more than just knowing we were bond-compatible. The way you spoke, the way you moved… You were beautiful. You still are.” It was Grantaire’s turn to blush. “My Da spoke of it, of finding something more than just the bond, of finding love. At the time, I did not believe him, but then… but then I saw you.”

He forced himself to meet Enjolras’s eyes. “And when I first saw you, you were speaking so passionately in favor of Omega rights, in favor of Omegas making their own decisions, nature be damned. What was I to do, sidle over to you and tell you that nature could not be so easily ignored?”

Enjolras frowned. “But you couldn’t have said something at a later point? Couldn’t have brought it up at any point in our — I hesitate to call it friendship, but there does not seem a more appropriate term, does there? Could not at least have presented me with the realization when you knew that I had not understood what I felt for you?”

“Again, what would I have said? No, you were your own man with your own mind, and I would not have you another way. But that meant that I could not use nature as an excuse. If you were to have me, it would be because you desired it.” He flushed slightly and looked away from Enjolras, and his voice was a hoarse whisper as he said, “I would rather live an entire lifetime apart than think you were only with me because of some quirk of nature.”

There was a brief pause as Enjolras mulled over Grantaire’s words, but then Grantaire, who had just realized what Enjolras had said, asked in a strangled-sounding voice, “What do you mean, what you felt for me?”

Blinking, Enjolras’s frown deepened. “As surely as you felt something for me that day, I did for you as well. There was a… an awareness, I suppose you could call it.” He blushed slightly and glanced almost nervously at Grantaire. “I did not know what it was,” he confessed. “It wasn’t like the books and the stories all say.”

Grantaire managed a small smile. “There are many things that the books and stories do not tell, and I blame it almost entirely on particularly selective memory on the part of those involved.” His tone suddenly turned brisk. “Of course, now that you know of the bond, I do not expect anything more from you. My feelings are my own and have no bearing on where we go from here.”

Enjolras stared at him, completely confused by the sudden change in Grantaire’s tone. “I do not understand. I thought, since we were bonded…”

“You have what you needed, a bond that trumps the hold your father has on you,” Grantaire said with a forced calm. “I neither expect nor demand anything further from you. As your Alpha, I release you from all legal holds the bond has on you.”

“This isn’t about the bond,” Enjolras said impatiently, realizing for the first time that what he said was true. “I’m not here because of the bond. This, between us, this has never been about the bond.” He paused, trying to formulate the proper words for what he was trying to say. “Or, perhaps it is. Perhaps the two are so intimately linked that to separate them is impossible, but the bond doesn’t  _change_  anything.”

“What do you mean?”

Enjolras smiled at him, a nervous, crooked smile, so unlike his normal charming grin, but infinitely more honest. “I’m a bit of an idiot,” he admitted, “especially when it comes to things like this. And perhaps it’s taken the bond for me to realize fully, but Grantaire…” He trailed off, his smile growing into a true grin. “Grantaire, I’ve been falling in love with you for years, and I never realized it.”

Grantaire sat back in the armchair, his expression darkening. “I suggest you give yourself time to adjust to any residual effects of the bond,” he said flatly. “Jumping to conclusions such as this is understandable, but I would rather you did not say something you would regret later.”

“What are you talking about?” Enjolras asked, confused.

Grantaire’s eyes flickered. “You are confused,” he said, slowly, as if speaking to a child. “Either that or you are jesting. You are not really in love with me.”

Enjolras’s tone turned cold. “Do not presume to tell me how I feel. This has been a day for many confusing feelings, and I would be the first to admit that, but on this I am absolutely certain.” When Grantaire simply made a disparaging noise in the back of his throat, Enjolras leaned forward, his eyes flashing. “From the first time we argued, I have been falling in love with your intellect.”

“You despise my opinions.”

“But not the intelligence behind them,” Enjolras pointed out. “I only despair that you refuse to turn your incredible mind to better things than jests and sarcasm.”

“And puns,” Grantaire said, his voice slightly faint. “You cannot forget the puns.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “You can try to blame this on the bond, but Grantaire, this goes far beyond the parameters of the bond. The things that I love about you are not the physical things that I should be drawn to if this were merely nature’s doing. The fact that, even at a time like this, you would make jokes… And before you interrupt again, I love your humor, even if I believe you don’t always know the time and place for said humor. I love your commitment to your friends, regardless of personal dogma.” Grantaire snorted, but did not protest that. “Your interests are varied, ranging from high art to back alley brawls, and I want to know how you spend every minute of every day. I want you to take me to your favorite cafés and ale houses, the hidden spots that only you know. I want to listen to you talk because I love the sound of your voice. I want—”

Enjolras was cut off from saying more by Grantaire kissing him. So swiftly had he moved from his position on the armchair that Enjolras had not even noticed, and so was still talking when Grantaire covered his mouth with his own. The kiss was sweet and gentle, Grantaire’s hand warm as he cupped Enjolras’s cheek. Enjolras all but melted into it, grabbing Grantaire by the lapels and pulling him down so that he was almost straddling him.

When they finally broke apart, they did not move far, Grantaire settling in next to Enjolras, their fingers laced together. “I did not know that it could be like this,” Enjolras said softly. “I did not know that there was more to the bond than just being a slave to an Alpha.”

“And in your father’s world, the world he may have wanted for you, there very well may not have been,” Grantaire murmured. “While I have always thought your aims were far too high to be achievable, I endeavor to work with you until no Omega need fear losing everything he is to his Alpha.”

They kissed again, fiercer this time, deeper, and Enjolras traced his fingers carefully across Grantaire’s cheekbone as if unsure that touching him was allowed. “You are beautiful,” Enjolras whispered. “And if it had to have been anyone, I am so very glad that it is you.”

Grantaire growled deep in his throat and pushed Enjolras back against the couch, kissing him hungrily. Enjolras moaned softly as Grantaire’s hand slipped under his shirt, and he stilled. Instantly Grantaire stopped, pulling away slightly. “Is everything alright?”

“I…” Enjolras turned bright red, and his voice was an octave too high when he asked in what he hoped was an innocent fashion, “Is it possible for me to go into heat again so soon?”

Grantaire’s lips twitched, and Enjolras’s blush deepened as he realized Grantaire was trying not to laugh at him. Grantaire kissed Enjolras again before telling him gently, “That is simply what they call lust, Enjolras. You are capable of feeling as such outside of your heat.”

Enjolras nodded, his blush fading slightly, and he bit his lip. “Is it to be expected?” he asked softly. “Are we to act on such things outside of my heats?”

Now there was no humor in Grantaire’s expression, hidden or otherwise, and he sat up, pulling Enjolras up with him. “I forget how much you do not know,” Grantaire murmured. He brushed a curl out of Enjolras’s face, his fingers gentle. “Only during an Omega’s heat is the compulsion for pleasure present, but an Alpha and Omega may enjoy pleasures together at any point, provided both parties wish to do so.” He hesitated before adding, “And as I am very much in love with you, I would wish to do so, but only if you do as well. If you do not, I am fine with all the things you mentioned, with long walks and all of that.”

Nodding again, Enjolras bit his lip before saying slowly, “I admit that the idea is not repulsive to me, though without the haze of the heat, I will need help. That being said, I would not mind copulating with you again, as frequently as is desired.”

“Copulating?” Grantaire asked, incredulous, and he tipped Enjolras’s chin up to kiss him again, a heady, drawn out affair, his tongue slipping inside Enjolras’s mouth, and when he spoke next, his lips moved against Enjolras’s ear. “My dear man, if you see this as no more than copulation, I have failed you. Not only as your Alpha, but as your lover.”

He stood, taking Enjolras’s hand in his, and pulled him up, tugging him towards the bedroom. When they were inside, he paused, turning back to Enjolras. “I will not force you to do this,” he said calmly. “The choice is all yours. But I would very much like to make up for my previous failings as your lover.”

His eyes glinted with unspoken laughter, and Enjolras grinned, crossing to the bed and sitting down on it, blinking innocently back at Grantaire. “If you would be willing, then I would rather enjoy starting my education now.”

Grantaire laughed and crossed to him, kissing him soundly as he pushed him back on to the bed. Enjolras pushed Grantaire’s shirt up, running his fingers lightly over Grantaire’s skin as he did so. Though they had done this before, it had not felt like this, gentle and careful. Grantaire let Enjolras pull his shirt off before taking Enjolras’s shirt off as well, running his hands lovingly over Enjolras’s lithe frame. “Just so you are aware,” Grantaire said, a little hesitantly, “if you wish to remain on suppressants, that is your choice alone. This bond, this that is more than a bond, it does not change anything between us. The law may insist that I now own you, but you and I, we have always known the truth.”

“And what truth is that?” Enjolras asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

Grantaire half-smiled. “The fact that you have owned my heart since the day we met.”

Enjolras blushed and ducked his head at that, smiling as Grantaire kissed his cheek lightly. He hesitated for a long moment before saying softly, “For the moment, I think I want to go back on suppressants, until… until we figure this out more. Until we’re ready. There is much we still need to work on, between us and otherwise. But when the time comes… I admit the idea of bearing children is not so terrible when it’s your children.”

Grantaire blushed as well and nodded, clearing his throat. “Very well.” He pushed Enjolras back onto the bed, clambering on next to him, and tugged him close so that Enjolras was practically lying on top of him. “But in the meantime, there is much we can still do. Including starting your education properly.” He kissed Enjolras, a slow, open-mouthed kiss, and whispered, “I would have you take me the way I took you during your heat.”

Sitting up slightly, Enjolras looked down at Grantaire, eyes wide and expression almost scandalized. “Is that… is that allowed?”

“As your Alpha,” Grantaire growled, his hands gripping Enjolras’s wrists, “I absolutely permit it.”

* * *

 

Enjolras’s hand was sweaty and heavy in Grantaire’s, and Grantaire squeezed it lightly, a subtle reminder that he was there, that he was not going anywhere. He had never seen Enjolras like this, Enjolras who was so strong and determined and outspoken. Now, Enjolras seemed almost cowed as they approached his father’s house, unable to stop shaking as they knocked on the door. It was a fairly modest brownstone, and Grantaire had expressed amazement at that as they were walking up to it, until Enjolras had muttered, “You should see the country estate.”

Which had been the moment that Enjolras had paused in his step and said, vaguely horrified, “I suppose you shall, as my Alpha. What is mine is yours, legally, is it not? And there is not another heir, I don’t think, though I do not know much of my cousins and there may be a suitable Alpha among them.”

“Enjolras.” Grantaire had stopped then, taking Enjolras’s shoulders in his hands and holding him steady. “Whatever happens will happen, and whether we together inherit your father’s property or not, it will not change a thing between us. For the moment, we have to ensure that the man does not murder me for essentially stealing his property.”

“He wouldn’t kill you,” Enjolras said, mechanically. “It would be illegal to a degree that even his contemporaries would condemn it.” Grantaire relaxed slightly until Enjolras added, completely serious, “He would most likely hire someone to kill you if he wanted to.”

Though Grantaire had blanched at that, he still stood steadily at Enjolras’s side, waiting to be let in. They had sent word ahead so that Enjolras’s father would not be completely surprised, so they were ushered into the drawing room without much issue. Still, as soon as M. Enjolras entered the room, his nostrils flared and he glared at them both. “So. It is true.”

He sat heavily across from where Enjolras and Grantaire sat on the sofa. “May I offer you a drink, Monsieur…?”

“Grantaire,” Grantaire supplied, stroking his thumb lightly over Enjolras’s skin when Enjolras tensed. “And no, I am not thirsty at the moment.” When M. Enjolras did not ask Enjolras if he wanted anything to drink, Grantaire said lightly, “Will you not offer refreshment to your son?”

M. Enjolras looked at Grantaire with narrowed eyes. “He is your Omega now, and thus your responsibility to keep fed and watered.”

Both Grantaire and Enjolras stiffened at that, and Enjolras’s grip on Grantaire’s hand was almost painfully tight. Grantaire swallowed hard but spoke calmly as he told M. Enjolras, “Monsieur Enjolras, I assure you that neither your son nor I intended this to happen, and I did not do this in an attempt for money, or whatever other things you may be thinking.” He looked back at Enjolras and managed a soft smile, even there with Enjolras’s father glaring at them. “He and I are bond-compatible.”

“And tell me, Monsieur Grantaire, what do you do for a living?” M. Enjolras asked, far too polite to be genuine.

Grantaire swallowed again before saying lightly, “I dabble in the arts. My parents are not as wealthy as some, but have provided a modest enough allowance that I can support myself and still pursue my interests.” He paused before adding, “And of course, I support your son in his political activism.”

M. Enjolras’s lip curled. “I see. An artist who is also an activist. Why am I not surprised?”

For the first time, Enjolras leaned forward to speak, his eyes flashing with a hint of his old fire. “Grantaire is much more than that,” he said icily. “He is one of the best men I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

Now M. Enjolras turned his glare onto Enjolras, who did not bend under its intensity. “If you will not keep your Omega in his place, Monsieur Grantaire, I shall have to ask the servants to remove him,” he said mildly.

“I am your son,” Enjolras said, his voice beginning to shake. “And I am more than just an Omega to be passed like property between Alphas. I have a right to be heard.”

“You are a complete disappointment who couldn’t even wait to take it from a proper and respectable Alpha with a good family name,” M. Enjolras said, sounding almost bored as he stared at Enjolras. “The one thing of value you had to offer is now entirely wasted. I am merely glad that I am not the one who has to deal with as unruly an Omega as you.” He turned to Grantaire with a haughty look on his face. “May I recommend, Monsieur Grantaire, that when he gets mouthy, a good slap or punch to the face will help keep him in line.”

Enjolras flinched, and with that small movement, Grantaire snapped. He practically leapt out of his seat to smash his fist into M. Enjolras’s face with enough force to knock the older man backward from his armchair. Grantaire stood over him, chest heaving, cold fury written across his expression. “You will never speak of him that way again, am I understood? That man is not only your son but is  _mine_ , and you  _will_  respect that.” He straightened his jacket and waistcoat, looking almost imperiously down at M. Enjolras, who had made no attempt to move. “We shall work out the finalities of Enjolras’s transfer through the courts, as I have no more desire to speak with you.”

Grantaire crossed back to the sofa to take Enjolras’s hand, gently pulling him up. “I shall have our lawyers contact yours,” Grantaire practically snarled, though the arm he wrapped around Enjolras’s waist was gentle. “Good day, sir.”

“You two deserve each other,” M. Enjolras called after them as he wiped a trickle of blood from his nose. “And I shall make sure you pay equally.”

They made it outside without speaking, though Grantaire’s hand against Enjolras’s back was the only thing propelling him forward. When they were far enough from Enjolras’s father’s, Grantaire seemed to sag, shaking as he grasped Enjolras’s hand. “I am so terribly sorry,” he whispered, “that you not only sat through that just now but grew up in that household. It is a wonder that you turned out to be even half the man that you are today with that miserable excuse for a father.”

Enjolras did not know what to say to that, and settled for pulling Grantaire close, stroking his back lightly as he whispered, “I should not thank you for what you did back there, but still — thank you.”

“There was nothing else I could have done,” Grantaire told him, his eyes hardening. “To even consider speaking of you that way, as if you were not even there… it was intolerable.” He reached up to brush his fingers lightly against Enjolras’s cheek. “I will not apologize for what I did, because no one should ever speak to you that way. I will, however, apologize for doing it for you, when I know you are more than capable of standing up for yourself.”

Smiling slightly, Enjolras lifted Grantaire’s hand to his lips so he could kiss his bruised knuckles. “I’m afraid that where my father is concerned, I have rarely been able to stand up for myself. So I do thank you for that.”

Grantaire shook his head. “Never have I found myself more in sympathy to the cause than today,” he said, his expression stormy. “And if we must fight for the rest of our lives to ensure that no other must live through that, then I would fight beside you.”

Enjolras kissed him then, a fierce, demanding kiss that said all the things he could not articulate at the moment. When they broke apart, Grantaire was grinning. “I should warn you,” he said, taking Enjolras’s hand as they started back towards Grantaire’s apartment, “I could be arrested for that.”

“And I should warn you, I could lose my entire inheritance for that,” Enjolras said lightly. “We shall cross both bridges when we come to them.”

Grantaire chuckled and pulled Enjolras to him, turning his head to kiss Enjolras’s temple. “Your father was right about one thing, you know,” he murmured in a low voice.

Enjolras looked up at him questioningly. “And what thing would that be?”

Putting his arm around Enjolras’s waist and kissing him once more, Grantaire told him simply, “We do deserve each other.”


End file.
